


What Makes a Person a Person

by Lilyliegh



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Androids, Co-workers, Comedy, Emotional Roller Coaster, Eventual Friendship, Eventual Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Mystery, Platonic Recoil, Platonic Wisteria, Romantic Datastorm, Vacation, but spectre’s probably going to figure out Yuusaku’s identity first, hidden identities, let’s be honest ryouken’s probably going to drop cover first and lose it at takeru
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 10:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21252089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilyliegh/pseuds/Lilyliegh
Summary: Yuusaku doesn't want to attend his work's week-long team-building retreat. Ryouken doesn't necessarily want to attend his weekend-long conference meeting either, but more importantly he doesn't want to see Yuusaku stressed over a week of mandatory socialisation, posturing, and work-life stress. The solution? A newly-designed device that allows the wearer to take on the appearance of another person. Thus, Ryouken attends Yuusaku's work retreat and Yuusaku attends Ryouken's conference.Playing the role of your partner? Easy. Fooling your partner's friends and associates so they don't discover your identity? A bit trickier.And then there's the rise of self-thinking androids.





	What Makes a Person a Person

**Author's Note:**

> technically this was written for Vrains Weeks 2019, but then i started a job, lost all my free time, and couldn't participate or even upload the chapters i'd written. So this fic is now it's own standalone idea. Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryouken tries to help lower Yuusaku's stress regarding his upcoming holiday, agrees to a solid plan of switching identities so that he can attend the conference ... and promptly regrets the decision when he remember who else will be going.

Ryouken reclined on the sun chair, legs crossed at the ankles and one hand behind his head. He used his other hand to flick through the email on his duel disk—not necessarily his email, but a forwarded one from Yuusaku concerning his upcoming week-long work party. SOL Technologies was hosting a getaway for its employees. It was technically optional, but free, and while Yuusaku hadn’t planned on joining, his entire branch was closing so that everyone could attend. Thus, Yuusaku didn’t have a choice on the matter.

He wasn’t taking it well either. Behind Ryouken, he could hear Yuusaku pacing back and forth in the hallway leading to their bedroom and bathroom. All morning he had been packing. For all its lengthy descriptions, the email hadn’t mentioned what anyone should bring, and how much this resort would cover. Did they need clothes? Food? A bathing suit seemed preferable if the getaway wasn’t in  _ February,  _ but there was a section on the pool and hot tub, so perhaps they were covered.

Ryouken rubbed at his chin as he scrolled further down. “Yuusaku, the food is provided,” he called out as he spotted the bullet points concerning diet. “Looks like typical food too.”

A muffled grunt came from down the hall. Oh, he was in the bedroom now. Ryouken peeked over the sun chair and through the glass door leading out to the balcony. A moment later, Yuusaku emerged with a hand fisting his hair.

“What does typical even mean?”

“Cheap,” he said at once. Then, more carefully: “Ramen, sandwiches, stir fry. You might get lucky and have oden.”

Yuusaku sighed towards the ground.

“I’m sure they can make substitutions.”

“That’s not what I care about.”

Ryouken swept himself to his feet and took Yuusaku by the shoulders. He was taller than Yuusaku, but not by much; and yet the inch or two of extra height gave him just enough leverage to plant a kiss on Yuusaku’s forehead without so much as tilting his own head. He kept his lips pressed there for a moment more, then stepped back to see Yuusaku more clearly.

“Are they going to be taking attendance on this field trip?” he asked with a snicker.

Yuusaku rolled his eyes. “Takeru knows I’m going, so …” He scratched at his head. “So I can’t just let him down. He’s looking forward to it too, so who knows, maybe it will be great.”

“You two could skip together.” 

“But Takeru wants to go.” Firmly, Yuusaku tugged at his shirt and stepped back. “So it will be  _ fine.” _

Stress made Yuusaku snappish. And emotional. And prone to squashing down other feelings so he could just bear the experience until it was over. Ryouken felt a knife slip into his chest seeing Yuusaku drag himself around the flat, taking clothes out of his suitcase and putting them back in, stressing over little details that any other time he wouldn’t even bat an eye to. Not only was it painful to watch, it was difficult for  _ him  _ to do anything else while Yuusaku was fretting. He’d spent the morning out on the balcony with a sweet, frothy caramel latte and a good paperback book, yet he hadn’t properly relaxed. Each time he heard Yuusaku grumble or moan, his eyes would miss a word off the page or he’d taste bitter coffee at the back of his throat.

Now, standing in the hallway, he couldn’t even consider sitting down. He marched into the bedroom where Yuusaku was consulting his own duel disk and the long-winded email.

“What do you need help with?”

“Nothing.”

A sigh. Ryouken glanced down at the half-full suitcase. So far he’d managed to pack clothing and two bags of chips. 

“What does the email say?”

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for your conference?” Yuusaku asked. He swallowed when his tone snapped like a whip at the end—a quiet but deadly whip, like a snake slithering through the jungle. Yuusaku was rarely  _ loud  _ when he was angry, but his words had bite to them. Yet he did have a point …

“I’m not heading out of town,” Ryouken said, settling down on the bed. He adjusted the crisp, baby blue covers beneath him and curled his legs to his side. “And I’m not the one presenting at the conference. Thus, I’m free to help.”

“There’s not even all that much to pack,” Yuusaku said. A sigh punctuated the ends of his words. “I’m just … it’s not something that should bother me.”

Ryouken raised a single, slim eyebrow. Yuusaku only opened up when something was causing him immense grief or stress. He’d gotten better over the year they’d been together, but there were times Yuusaku would hold everything in his heart until it leaked out of him in angry tears and muffled sobs, late at night when they’d both be in bed. If Yuusaku was opening up now, it was his duty to listen.

“It’s nothing. It will be fine. And I’ll take a picture of the ducks for Kusanagi.”

Anticlimactic.

Ryouken laid back on the covers, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck onto their ceiling. “What if I called your manager and said you were ill with a deadly virus and that you needed to stay home?”

“Takeru would find out and he’d break down the door wanting to check up on me.”

“What if I called Takeru and said you just didn’t want to go?”

“Because you can’t just flake out on your friends, Ryouken—”

“Then what if I went as you?”

Yuusaku paused. He’d been fiddling with various apps on his duel disk; of all the details to fret about, which apps were or were not on his duel disk seemed like the least important task. But he stopped once Ryouken spoke and turned off the device.

“... what?”

“If you don’t care to go—or more importantly, you’re stressing yourself you trying to go to this dumb event—then let me.”

“But you don’t want to go …” Yuusaku said, sounding out the words as if he wasn’t sure he was the one saying them.

“I’d rather go than watch you stress yourself.”

“But your meeting.” At this, Yuusaku looked triumphant. Like he was looking for reasons for  _ Ryouken  _ not to go rather than accepting the help. Typical Yuusaku.

“Spectre will take my place. He has done so in the past, and he’ll likely seize the opportunity as a benevolent gesture. That will free up my schedule so I can attend the getaway on your behalf.”

“But.” Yuusaku sat up, and where there was once fear or anxiety was now pride. A challenging look glowed behind his green eyes. “How do you plan to go as me? People know what I look like, and they know what you look like.”

But he’d already thought through this particular detail. It had been the first step in crafting the new plan. Ryouken sat up on the bed and folded his hands in his lap. His lips curled into a prim smile. “With this.” From within his pocket he extracted a small, thin band, the thickness of a piece of string or wire. It had enough elasticity to it to stretch over his hand and slip into place on his wrist. Then he tapped it with his fingers.

Yuusaku’s eyes popped wide open. “You—”

“Look like me,” Ryouken finished. He could see himself in the mirror: a perfect replica of Fujiki Yuusaku, from his blue and pink hair to his slim features, and down to the tiny, faded scratches on his wrist and neck and the particular green hue of his eyes. The modifications only worked on his physical body; he’d need to change clothes. Thus, he appeared as a smartly-dressed Yuusaku.

Chuckling, he plucked at his blazer with now-shorter, knobbly fingers. “I’ll have to change before I depart.”

“You even sound like me.” Bewilderment slipped into his words. Yuusaku looked like a starry-eyed child on Christmas Day, or a lovesick fiance about to spend Christmas with their beloved.

Ryouken cupped his face in his hands. “Do I now?”

“But you don’t act like me.” Yuusaku’s words had grown firm, and the stars in his eyes disappeared. He leant closer on the bed and tugged at Ryouken’s sleeves. “That’s a nice invention, and I appreciate it, but …”

Ryouken couldn’t be mad at Yuusaku, not when so much was already giving him grey hair and a churning stomach. Yet he felt his expression fall; in the mirror, he looked like Yuusaku after a long, exhausting day of work.

“What’s holding you back now?”

Yuusaku toyed with the end of his sleeve, keeping his chin tucked to his chest. An inkling of doubt pierced each of his actions, as if he didn’t know what to  _ do:  _ accept the help, deny it; try to fix it himself and suffer through the consequences of taking matters into his own and not trusting a single person. Ryouken could relate. Still, he took one of Yuusaku’s fretting hands in his own and caressed it with blunt, clean nails.

“Why force yourself to go to an event you abhor?”

“Because I need to go …”

“And I could go as you.”

“Someone would find out.” Yuusaku faced him, though he no longer looked determined, just tired. “This for my  _ job.  _ I have to take it seriously.”

“And I would,” Ryouken said, trying to keep the blame out of his words. He would place the role of Fujiki Yuusaku to a T. No one would be able to tell the difference. Yuusaku knew that too; he could tell. Yet something else nagged at Yuusaku’s mind, as clear on his face as the stars were out on the water.

“I can’t talk to you when you look like me, you know.” Yuusaku swallowed back a chuckle and pushed at his face. “It’s weird.”

“Weird?” Ryouken pushed back, but instead of moving forward, he then fell backwards, taking Yuusaku with him. Yuusaku’s legs found their way on either side of his hips, and he settled on Ryouken’s stomach. One hand draped across his chest; the other hand tangled in his hair. Ryouken could only smile in bliss.

“Yes, weird.” Yuusaku wiggled his fingers under the elastic band. “It’s like … selfcest.”

“What a specific word.”

Yuusaku flicked the elastic from his wrist. The change in appearance wasn’t spectacular, no lights or sparkles. The stupor on Yuusaku’s face was priceless though; he wheeled back despite expecting the change, and Ryouken leant forward to kiss him on the lips.

“Better?” Ryouken asked, blowing breath onto Yuusaku’s pink cheeks.

“You have a conference to go to,” Yuusaku said, as seriously as he could in their current position. “Or are you trying to get out of that event too?”

Ryouken shrugged. “I could be.” 

Yuusaku blinked at him. The surprise was only growing more prevalent on his face. Any minute he’d be balking and gasping, throwing himself across the room like a cartoon character. He stayed on the bed, opening and closing his mouth while he gathered his thoughts. What came out after a rough cough was drenched in disbelief: “You want to switch places?”

“I think it would be rather exciting. I could pretend to be you for the weekend, and you could pretend to be me. Since neither of us are interested in going to our respective events, it would only be a welcoming change of scenery—and a thrill to pose as each other.” A sly smile stretched across his face. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Yuusaku had gone silent. The wind blowing past the bedroom window was louder, and when it swept into the room and tousled their hair, Yuusaku still remained still. He was hunched atop Ryouken, with one hand still round his wrist and the other in his hand. Ryouken itched to stroke his cheek and rouse him from the spell that had been cast on the room. 

“Yuusaku?”

“Would you?”

There was no hesitation behind his words. No anxiety. He wasn’t pleading either; Yuusaku did not  _ plead,  _ or beg, or lower himself to his knees. But he did sound grateful, and Ryouken was all the more eager to kiss him once again and settle back onto the bed. 

“It wouldn’t bother me in the slightest. You’re welcome to stay home or attend my conference.”

“I’ll attend.”

He smirked. “Are you excited to play the part of Kougami Ryouken, leader of the Knights of Hanoi? He is quite the gentleman.”

Yuusaku leaned into him, hooking a finger under his dress shirt collar. Yuusaku had a habit of fiddling with things while they were together: buttons, straps, itty-bitty pieces of fabric. This time, his fingers had found the top-most button left undone, and he rolled it across his digits as he spoke. “I believe I’ve gotten to know him quite well.”

A deep, appreciative purr rumbled in his chest. “Then I have a second bracelet for you.”

Sighing, Yuusaku toppled next to him. He kicked out at the suitcase, open and spilling with all the random crap he had once thought to bring. Ryouken peered inside—since when did anyone need playing cards on a trip, unless Yuusaku planned to bring group activities for everyone. 

One of Yuusaku’s free hands snaked under his shirt and pulled him forward, but this time, he slipped away. “Hm?” Yuusaku asked from the bed.

“I need to get ready,” Ryouken said. “The bus leaves this afternoon, doesn’t it?”

Yuusaku shook his head. “Takeru comes in two hours.”

“Two …” A nerve snapped within him. “You’re travelling up with Homura?”

“He insisted,” Yuusaku said, slipping off the bed. He grabbed several shirts and trousers from his cupboards and tossed them messily into the suitcase. Despite not having been able to decide on anything before, he now gathered all the belongings one would need, from clothing to bathroom essentials to a spare first-aid kit should he get so much as a papercut. Ryouken stood by the bed and watched Yuusaku march from room to room, each time returning with new belongings.

_ How  _ had he not been able to do this before?

But the more pressing questions was: “Can’t you cancel on Homura?”

“You’ll need to call him ‘Takeru’ if you’re posing as me,” Yuusaku said as he stepped past to drop several packets of salty crackers into the suitcase—the last essentials before he zipped the suitcase close. “And he’s my friend. I can’t bail on him because you aren’t friends with him. You’re pretending to be me; you’ll need to pretend to be his friend too.”

Already he could feel a headache breaking into his skull like a pair of well-worn shoes. Ryouken sighed into his hand. A little voice in the back of his mind taunted,  _ You agreed to this.  _ And he had. Readily. Happily. But while he had known Homura Takeru would be going on the getaway, as he was Yuusaku’s co-worker as well as friend, he hadn’t known they would be travelling together up to the retreat. He and Takeru were cordial to one another. Polite in Yuusaku’s company. Seeing eye to eye was another matter, and one he would have to put up with under the guise of Yuusaku.

“Are you still up to this?” Yuusaku asked. 

“I can put aside my reservations about him for one week.”

Yuusaku smiled at him. He wheeled the suitcase out to the front door, a skip in his step. Ryouken followed him out to the kitchen. It would still be more than an hour until Takeru arrived, or longer since he was often late, but now  _ he  _ couldn’t settle. He didn’t pace, but he sat still and thought through the scenario. Posing as Yuusaku would still be easy. He would be uninterested for the duration of the getaway and seek out solace and privacy. He’d have an excuse to avoid most of the attendees. When he thought about the trip clearly, it would be an entire week to himself, with the odd accompaniment by Takeru. 

Until Takeru would show up, Yuusaku curled up next to him on the sofa. They browsed through dumb videos on DuelTube. Ryouken checked his Twitter. A message pinged at the top of his notification window.

> _ Spectre: hey, you think SOL’s servers will turn to shit since half the company’s taking a vacay? _

Ryouken passed the duel disk to Yuusaku. “You might as well get some practice being me too.”

Yuusaku rose to the challenge. He swiped the duel disk and with nimble, skilled fingers and typed back.

> _ Ryouken: i wouldn’t expect any less of them (￣ω￣) _

He snorted into his fist. He and Yuusaku rarely messaged each other now that they were living together, but it appeared Yuusaku had figured out his typing lingo, including all the kaomoji add-ons he had installed next to his keyboard.

“How did I do?” He had the  _ gall  _ to sound smug about it too.

Ryouken buried his nose into Yuusaku’s hair and kept scrolling. He lost track of time scanning his Twitter feed full of memes, updates regarding PVP games he and Yuusaku played, and the abundance of posts from Dr. Taki alone. How she had time to tweet every second of the day was beyond him. Or how she could have such varied interests, from knitting to mixology to more memes.

The ring of the doorbell rose him from the couch and the dread from his gut. Yuusaku smiled at him as he slipped the elastic onto Ryouken’s wrist and gave it a short tap. Then he slipped the other elastic onto his own wrist and tapped it too.

“Off you go,” Yuusaku said, giving him a slight shove on the shoulder. “You’re Fujiki Yuusaku and your friend is waiting for you.”

Ryouken growled under his breath. Before he left, he pressed a kiss to Yuusaku’s temple. Then he marched to the door. Through the eyehole he could see Takeru standing on the landing. He was wearing a gaudy-printed shirt, the kind a tacky tourist might wear, and cargo shorts with large pockets. He had no luggage with him, though it was likely in the trunk, and Ryouken distantly wondered whether Takeru was the type to over- or under-pack. He’d find out soon enough.

“Yuusaku!” Takeru cried as soon as he opened the door and slung his arms round Ryouken’s shoulders. Since high school, Takeru had grown. He was still baby-faced, but taller and broader. Ryouken stumbled into Takeru’s chest and forced himself to grit his teeth. Yuusaku liked Takeru’s hugs; other than Ryouken, Takeru was the only other person allowed to be physically affectionate with him. 

“Are you packed? Did you get any sleep last night? I was so pumped I don’t think I got to bed before  _ three.” _

Ryouken pulled away with a short cough and adjusted his shirt. “I couldn’t sleep either,” he said. He brought a hand to rub at his eyes for added effect.

On the couch, Yuusaku remained still. He gave a short grunt to Takeru.

“Hiya, Ryouken.”

Ryouken bit his lip; while he refused to call Yuusaku’s friends by their first names, Takeru spoke to everyone on a first-name basis.

“Hello.” Yuusaku’s voice was deeper. He played the part well.

“So …” Takeru eyed up the single suitcase in the doorway. “That’s what you’re bringing?”

Was it enough? Too much? Ryouken couldn’t tell. He shrugged and wheeled it out to the door. “Should I put it in your trunk?”

Takeru sobered at once and sauntered out to the car. “Oh yeah, sure, here, lemme get the trunk for you. I …” He paused as he opened the trunk door. “I packed light too.”

Light was an understatement. A  _ gross  _ understatement to the fact that all Takeru had brought with him was a  _ backpack.  _ It couldn’t have held more than three day’s worth of clothing, unless Takeru planned on doubling up. A thought Ryouken did not want to consider. He held back a sigh as he lifted the suitcase into the trunk. The back wheels hit something hard.

“What …”

“Oh!” Takeru scrambled into the trunk and adjusted the suitcase. Pushed towards the back was a tarp covering a long, wheeled board. “That’s my skateboard. Thought I might bring it just in case we get bored. There’s a second one for you too.”

“Thank you.” 

“Well …” Takeru crawled back out of the trunk and locked it. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your boyfriend?”

“Already did.”

“Then I guess we’re set.” Takeru led him round to the passenger side and opened the door for him. While he drove a moderately priced silver car, the interior was a mishmash of beautiful and disastrous. The seats were well-worn and littered with crumbs despite Takeru saying as he climbed in, “I just cleaned!” He must have spent more money blinging out the car: a beautiful, sleek touch screen interface was built into the centre of the dashboard. As Takeru started the engine, the car gave a throaty purr.

Then: “Hello, Mister Soulburner. Continue trip to Paradise?”

Ryouken hoped that Yuusaku had never ridden in Takeru’s car as he asked, “Is that a new AI?”

“Flame? Nah, I’ve had him since I got this ride. He was just down for maintenance last time you were with me—”

“Because you spilt juice on my motherboard, Soulburner,” Flame said with a huff.

“By accident!” Takeru pulled the car out of the driveway and turned it down the hill. When Ryouken drove—in his sleek, top-model,  _ AI-free  _ vehicle—he took the hill down from his house slow and steady. Takeru accelerated.

Ryouken clenched his jaw. 

“So anyways,” Takeru continued as the car careened down the hill, and Takeru himself showed no signs of using the brake, “now Flame is back with me and working good as news. You can’t even tell the accident happened.” Out of the blue, Takeru’s expression grew grim. “Oh I totally forgot! You’ve probably never been in an AI-assisted vehicle, have you? Ryouken doesn’t like them, does he?”

“No,” Ryouken answered, keeping his voice even. “He doesn’t trust them.”

Takeru hummed. “I’ll admit, they’re a bit different, something you have to get used to. But nowadays, I couldn’t live without Flame. He’s helped me get unlost too many times to count, and he’s not just in my car too—he lives all around me, in my duel disk, my computer, all the technology in my house. It’s like he’s really living with me.”

_ A horrible fact,  _ Ryouken wanted to point out. Lately the inclusion of AIs in all aspects of life was the newest fad—and not just several differently-programmed AIs, but a singular being. A virtual companion. Yuusaku had a basic AI in his duel disk, but it stayed within the disk and didn’t bugger around the house, connecting to every piece of hardware in sight. The reliance on AIs would be the downfall of human society; Ryouken was still sure of that.

He felt Flame’s eyes on him.

“Is this Fujiki Yuusaku?”

“Oh! Yes. Flame, meet Yuusaku, my co-worker and best friend. Yuusaku, meet Flame.”

Ryouken dipped his head. “Nice to meet you.”

“A friend of Soulburner’s is a friend of mine,” Flame said, a touch too earnestly and mushy for Ryouken’s taste.

Takeru drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and he drove down the seaside boulevard. Though technically only the section by his villa was Stardust Road, the entire sea was speckled with white stars. The trip up to Paradise Resort would be along the water, travelling up the coast of Japan until they reached an area just outside of Iwaki. The company email had been sure to tell the guests all about the resort: its pools, food, and attractions; and about the resort itself with private shops and beaches. The inclusivity of the resort meant that no one else would be around too.

“Did you know almost half of the employees at SOL are going to this event?” Takeru let out a loud sigh. “That’s …”

“4,562,” Flame said.

“Will there be room for that many people?” Ryouken asked.

Takeru considered it with a hum and a pause. “If they rented out the entire resort, maybe. I’m not sure; my grandparents took a vacation up to Iwaki one summer and they’ve passed by the resort—couldn’t stay at it, geez, the place costs a fortune.”

SOL did treat its employees well. At least, if no one else would be at the resort, Ryouken could hide away in his room or wander down to the beach. He’d packed several books to keep him relaxed this weekend.

“But there’s so much to do,” Takeru continued, “that it won’t matter. There’s a waterpark, and a beach, and a pool! And food—I’ve heard they’re hiring specific restaurants to come and serve their delicious food, and of course there will be entertainment. Bands, solo artists. You name it, SOL is probably hiring it.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Everyone was talking about it.”

Ryouken opened his mouth to answer and then closed it. He and Yuusaku had switched duel disks before they left, and he could see in the corner of the screen a yellow light signaling notifications. He opened it up and, sure enough, there was an entire chat dedicated to this event. People were making plans and picking one another up from their homes for the trip up. Memes had been shared. Events had been organised.

And Yuusaku had muted the chat.

“I … don’t keep up with the chat,” he said.

“Oh. That’s fine! On our first day, let’s explore the resort and just see what there is to do, and then we’ll decide from there how we spend our wonderful vacation.” 

“Sure.” Silently, Ryouken cursed his luck. So much for spending the vacation alone and in peace. He and Takeru would be joined at the hip for the entire week. Even Yuusaku would have wanted a day or two alone to spend wandering along the beach collecting stones, or up in his room watching live-streams on his duel disk. He supposed Takeru would allow him that much, but still …

“Are you looking forward to a week off?” Takeru asked.

“Mhm.”

“You looked so stressed last week, I thought you’d make yourself sick before we even left.”

Ryouken bit down on his lip. He’d seen Yuusaku run himself ragged too, coming home from work exhausted. Likely he was avoiding the group chats just to keep his sanity.

“So I hope, on this trip, you can relax a little. All right?” Briefly, Takeru turned to smile at him. The pink in his cheeks was the colour of an evening sunset, and his words were smooth like honey. “And here’s how it’ll start: my vacation playlist!”

The next thing he knew, there was loud J-Rock blasting through far too many speakers for a small car. Ryouken pressed his hands over his ears and Takeru turned down the volume with an apologetic smile, but he kept the noise on, singing to the vocals spouting the same vibes of “Take charge of your life” and “Live to your full potential” and “Never give up.” Cheesy messages like that. Flame sung along too, with a voice far too deep for a regular AI.

Ryouken leaned back into the seat with a sigh. If this was how the trip would start, he’d get some much-needed rest before he had to meet the rest of Yuusaku’s co-workers.

All too soon, the car slowed down. The music stayed pumping, but it was mere background noise as Ryouken lifted his head and gazed round the first views of the resort. It was princely. That was the only word for it. The inspiration seemed to have come from whatever search results ‘paradise’ had brought up, for directly in front of him were both Roman white-stone columns and tropical palm trees. They handed their tickets to a kind receptionist in a booth and he let them through the barred entryway and past the sky-high walls.

Inside the resort it was even more ritzy. The buildings were white- or peach-coloured stones and glowed in the warm sunlight. Smooth, sandy paths led through the resort, stopping off at thatched-roof restaurants and quaint family-run shops; only he knew these places would boast exquisite, top-of-the line merchandise and food rather than odds-and-ends and comfort food. There were several larger buildings in the distance, likely for theatre shows or large meetings; and at the very back, he spotted the onsen. 

Takeru waved a holographic chip back and forth—a virtual map for the entire resort. “This should help us out.”

The interactive map showed every major and minor attraction, event, and business in the entire resort. There was a tool to help guide them around and a group chat function to help organise events. Already several SOL employees had checked in and started hubs at the onsen and bar.

“And there’s this too.” Takeru tapped the top bar to reveal an interface. “President Queen can set meetings for us to attend. There’s one this evening to gather everyone.”

Ryouken tasted bile on his tongue at the mention of Queen. She was Yuusaku’s boss and he disliked her too; but Ryouken had had many a run-in when he was a cyberterrorist breaking down Link Vrains, and while the Knights of Hanoi had stopped their foul ways and made peace with SOL, he hadn’t necessarily made peace with her. She still pushed for AI-assisted technology. She still pushed for dominance over AIs and humans alike. And as far as he was concerned, she had her fingers dipped in shady business.

Takeru beamed brightly at him. “But we’ve still got time to kill until that, so what should we do?”

“Unpack.” They’d need to find their rooms and figure out if anyone else would be bunking with them. 

Takeru tapped the little device and set the map for the hotel. Then he tossed the chip from hand to hand. “I think you should take this, actually.”

“Hm?” But Takeru had already moved in. He clipped the device, that Ryouken could now see had a little carabina on the top, onto Ryouken’s elastic—the delicate device hiding his identity. 

“There.” Takeru dusted off his hands, a proud gleam in his eyes. “Sorry Yuusaku, but I don’t trust myself or my loose pockets. You keep hold of it.”

“Sure ....” 

As they wandered through the resort, Ryouken felt like he was becoming more and more like Yuusaku. There were people  _ everywhere.  _ Crowds never bothered him, but wherever he looked there was bound to be a clique or two chatting amongst themselves. He chanced glances at Takeru to see if he recognised anyone, but other than polite nods and smiles, Takeru kept to himself too. These must have been the employees from the other subdivisions all through Japan. 

The building they were staying in came into view long before they approached it, but as they stood in front of it, Ryouken had to crane his head back just to see the top penthouse. The exterior walls were made of single-sided glass that reflected drips of sunlight; the building  _ glowed  _ like a golden palace. Leading up to the entryway were white-stone steps bordered by well-trimmed hedges and bushes. The interior was equally warm and sunny, and spacious considering the building looked taller rather than longer. They approached the front desk where a kind man and woman sat in matching white dress shirts.

“Welcome,” the man said. “Checking in?”

“Yes,” Takeru said.

“Under what company name?”

“SOL Technologies …?”

The woman smiled politely at them. “And the branch name?”

“Hot Dog Squad,” Takeru said, ears growing pink. This entire resort was SOL employees in some way, shape, or form; they’d need to sign under Kusanagi’s branch.

“There we are.” The woman tapped a holographic screen, bringing up a new page. “And your names please?”

“Homura Takeru and …” He waited, and then spoke again. “Fujiki Yuusaku.”

More tapping. The woman produced two plastic chips, one for each of them, to load into their duel disks. She explained how the keys on the doors worked—hold your duel disk to the sensor and it will register their ID using the chip—and where to get food and drink. As an all-inclusive resort, the services were extensive; Ryouken had stayed at ritsy hotels before and even he felt his attention piqued by the games hall and bands.

“And a reminder from President Queen: please remember to check your duel disks for all upcoming notices regarding meetings.”

With a smile, Takeru held up his duel disk. “Got it. Thank you, miss!” As soon as they turned out around, Takeru let out a long breath. “Wow. This—this is something else!”

Above their heads twinkled glass and diamond chandeliers intertwined with delicate rubies and sapphires. No doubt the accents to the bannisters and walls were true gold too; this hotel seemed rich enough for expensive tastes. Down the hall was a restaurant and dining room, stocked with more than just the comfort food he’d seen on the advertisement: a bountiful array of local and international cuisine celebrating Link Vrains’ recent worldwide debut. Ryouken couldn’t cook to save his life, but he liked dishes from around the world. His stomach growled in anticipation.

Takeru chuckled into his fist. “Did you forget to eat before we left?”

Before his cheeks pinked, he cleared his throat. “We should put our bags away.”

“And then go downstairs to check out the buffet. I’m starving too!”

Their room was located on the fifteenth floor, though out the window, he still felt like he was on the ground floor. In their hallway, several employees were checking into their rooms too. Takeru waved to them. Ryouken bumped him towards the door and headed into their room.

Yuusaku had already prepared him for the fact that he and Takeru would be sharing a room; not a bed together, fortunately, though the twin beds could have been further apart. Still, the room was lavishly decorated for royalty with thick, blue duvets to ward off the February chill, an electric fireplace to curl up in front of, and an impressive TV wider than his at home. A small but quaint kitchen was tucked into the corner with a microwave and toaster oven to cook small meals, and a fridge to store food in.

"Aww," Takeru said, staring down at the table. "They don't have free cookies here."

Those would be downstairs and in plenty, no doubt. Ryouken sighed through his nose and dropped his bags down by the bed closest to the window. As discreetly as he could, he pushed the bed towards the window; he'd move it again when Takeru was out.

No sooner had they set down their belongings did Takeru want to leave again, bouncing up and down on his heels. "We need to see what food they have, Yuusaku. We're both starving."

Gingerly, Ryouken pressed a hand to his stomach. It had been a long drive up. The room service was tempting; however, Fujiki Yuusaku would have gone down with Takeru, at least on the first day.

"Fine."

They locked the door behind them and headed back down the hallway. Each time they passed someone, Takeru would give a little jump and a smile. Ryouken was fortunate Yuusaku was so socially awkward that he could keep his head down and ignore everyone they saw.

"Say." Takeru tossed the word out casually. "What's Ryouken doing this week?"

He almost choked. "Hm?"

"He's probably going to miss you while you're gone, so what's he doing?"

"A ..." Ryouken tugged at his sweaty collar, belatedly realising that he hadn't changed in Fujiki Yuusaku attire—he'd use the excuse that he was dressing up for the event if Takeru ever asked. "At a conference."

"All week too?"

"Just the weekend."

"Oh." Takeru swung his arms from side to side, then pressed the elevator button. "Well we'll have to send him plenty of photos. Do you miss him already?"

"We haven't been gone for that long," he said. As callous as it sounded, he couldn't imagine missing someone only after a few hours.

"But I bet he misses you." Takeru's voice grew softer. Once the elevator doors opened, all trace of sorrow disappeared. There was another person in the elevator, a short man with slick blond hair and pointed features. Ryouken didn't recognise him, and neither did Takeru, but still Takeeru greeted him with a warm smile.

"Are you from SOL too?"

"Armatos Legio," the man answered.

"Le ... gio?" Takeru sounded the word out with a puzzled expression, until the man cut in again.

"My name is Lightning."

"Oh!" Takeru clapped his hands together. "Lightning of Armatos Legio, I get it. Sorry, sorry—Homura Takeru of Hot Dog Squad. And ..." He bumped Ryouken's shoulder.

"Fujiki Yuusaku, also from … Hot Dog Squad."

Lightning nodded to both of them. He reminded Ryouken of a judge, quiet and contemplative. Takeru was practically bubbling next to him, asking him where about Armatos Legio was in Japan and what sort of work they were involved in. To the second point, Ryouken was curious. While everyone here was a SOL employee, many of the branches had their own mini-projects: designing and testing software; developing new patches and in-game materials, events, and NPCs for Link Vrains; or handling local marketing campaigns within their respective town or state. As a fellow businessman, Ryouken could appreciate a solid chat about products and campaigns.

Takeru seemed to think otherwise. "Wait, it's vacation—we can't talk about work!"

"My work does weigh on my mind," Lightning said.

"And that's why we're getting this wonderful vacation! We can't spend it talking about work."

The elevator doors opened and they walked out as a group. Lightning didn't break away at once, so Ryouken asked him, "And what sort of work would that be?"

Takeru let out a heavy sigh. Lightning answered with a voice as cool as ice.

"AIs. We're one of the select branches working on President Queen's upcoming androids."

"Ooh!" All at once, Takeru was interested once more. He leaned closer to Lightning, who pulled back much in the same way Ryouken did whenever Takeru became too buddy-buddy. "I've heard of that before! It's all hush-hush, but the leaks are out: Queen wants to make personal house-bots."

Not once had Yuusaku mentioned these new androids; but then again, they rarely talked about work at home, and if the discussion had been on the group chat, Yuusaku wouldn't have seen it. The thought of personal AIs left a bitter taste in his mouth. "How would these be any different than regular AIs?" he asked. After all, house-bots weren't a new discovery. They'd been around for ages, and only received upgrades when companies found the newest addition to keep them on the market.

A wry glimmer appeared in Lightning's golden eyes. "It's a private matter, Fujiki. I hope you'll understand."

Ryouken cursed under his breath. He'd ask Spectre to look into it tonight.

Just as the conversation began to dip down into a dull, Takeru asked, "Do you have a release date in place?"

"This is a private matter, Homura—"

"Or are you beta testing? Will other branches have an opportunity to try them out?"

A nerve pinched high on Lightning forehead. "There's not much to discuss at this moment. Please excuse me."

Ryouken rolled his eyes as he left. Likely Lightning's work  _ was  _ in beta mode, or in early planning phases than involved more talk than results. He could see a dust of pink spreading across the back of Lightning's neck, though to be fair, he was as fair as Spectre and any flush would show up like blood on his skin. Embarrassment was obvious. Pride welled in Ryouken's chest.

"What a nice guy," Takeru said with a sigh. Then he sprung to action and turned tightly on his heels. "Come on, Yuusaku—we've got to check out the food!"

He brushed himself free of Takeru's grip and headed across the foyer. If this week would be filled with trivial encounters with employees working on half-finished products, he'd at least enjoy the rest, relaxation, and good cuisine. Yuusaku would have too.

**Author's Note:**

> come poke me on tumblr [@ lily-liegh](https://lily-liegh.tumblr.com/ask) and leave a comment if you'd like!


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